


Regrets

by Maroucia



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 21:27:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2323736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maroucia/pseuds/Maroucia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Very short story inspired of a Littlefeather prompt for the SanSan-Russian-Roulette challenge on SansaxSandor, a LJ community. The prompt was: ‘As Sandor lay feverish along the Trident, he imagines Sansa is there with him and he tells her all the things he wanted to in KL but never did.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Littlefeather](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlefeather/gifts).



The sunbeams that passed through the shifting leaves and braches of the tall trees surrounding Sandor moved about with every new gust of wind that blew through the sky. It was dizzying the way they made as if to go one way but always came back the other, tracing bright circles through the high canopy. Why couldn’t they stop their pointless dance and everything be still? Why didn’t it _all_ stop? He was dying, was he? Couldn’t his bloody decline go faster so that this fucking feverish state he was in finally gave way to sweet oblivion? Sandor couldn’t stand how burning hot his blood felt as it flooded through his veins. He was sweating like a pig in the high summer sun but the worst was that all that sweat that kept dripping from his every pore made him cold whenever the wind blew and he was shivering with increased strength as the night approached.

 

 _Fuck the gods if they exist that they can turn a man into a wreck and then make him wait so long before throwing him in the Seven Hells,_ Sandor mused while wearily shutting his eyes. Even that puny gesture was tiresome to him at that point and the knowledge of how weak his infected wounds had gotten him was even more frustrating than the prospect of death itself.

 

Dimness was slowly engulfing the wood that surrounded Sandor and the man was once more about to get dragged in that mockery of sleep he kept falling in and out of when he suddenly heard a sound by his side. Something like feathers flipping, wings of a bird. Curious, he opened his eyes and saw a small red creature looking at him.

 

“What the fuck are you staring at?” he asked the bird, irked to have been disturbed in his agony.

 

Then just as he was about to close his eyes again, the thing changed shape and transformed into a girl. A breathtaking girl on the verge of womanhood with long red hair and beautiful bleu eyes that glared at him.

 

“Little bird?” the man whispered disbelievingly, bracing himself as much as his feeble body allowed.

 

“How could you,” the malevolent creature cried, her luscious mouth set in a pout. “You were supposed to protect me.”

 

“Protect you?” Sandor exclaimed, more shocked at her claim than at her appearance. “Why the Hells should you ever have expected me to do anything at all for you? I’m no pretty knight, I told you didn’t I? I’m surprised you ever thought otherwise.”

 

The girl stayed silent, tears shining in her eyes.

 

“Why by the Stranger should I feel any guilt regarding your damned faith?” he demanded irritably after a long moment of staring at her foggy shape. “It’s none of my fucking business whatever happened to you!”

 

A few seconds passed and all that could be heard in the growing darkness of the forest was the wind in the leaves and the crickets singing their eternal song and still, the little bird was staring at him with those big, sad eyes full of resentment.

 

“You were never more to me than an unhealthy obsession. If anything, the sole regret I have is not having taken you as I meant and raped you to _death_. At least, I’d have saved you from that dwarf’s unsound cock… Yeah, perhaps I should’ve. It would’ve been a mercy in the end - what do you think, little bird?” he rasped, laughing and coughing.

 

The damned girl didn’t answer again and only turned her back to him, as if to leave.

 

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Sandor growled angrily, trying to stand and failing miserably.

 

At hearing his debacle, the bloody girl jerked her head around to glance at him with a stare so poignant, the man felt as if he was being stabbed in the stomach.

 

“I’m not about to regret not having done more for you, no matter how you look at me! Guilt’s not for dogs and their likes…”

 

Again, the girl didn’t deign say a word and averted her eyes before starting to walk away.

 

“Hey! Wait!” Sandor yelled as much as his raw throat allowed him.

 

But it was too late. She had once more morphed into a bird and an instant later, she was flying away from him towards better lands.

 

 


End file.
